A Family
by sue-sylvester-shuffle
Summary: Jim knew that Dwight would know how to protect both of them if they ever got mugged, but he was never expecting this.
1. For Me, For Pam, For Our Family

Jim's head was full of foggy exhaustion, its tendrils wrapping around him and threatening to pull him under. He fought through it, though, typing away on his computer. It was nearly ten-thirty, and he'd decided to stay late that night so that he could leave early the next day. He was going to go home and stay with Pam and the kids, because she was still worn out from giving birth to Philip and could use some help with Cece.

"Are you going to stay here all night?" The harsh, abrupt voice shook Jim from his thoughts. He looked up. Dwight was standing there, arms crossed. Jim thought he could see a glint of concern in his fellow salesman's blue eyes, but it was probably just his overtired eyes.

"I don't think so." Jim replied, and then yawned. "Wow, it's getting late."

"So you should leave."

"Don't worry about waiting for me, Dwight." said Jim. "You can leave. I'm okay."

"I don't care if you're okay." Dwight snapped. "I need to know when you're leaving so I can lock up behind you."

"Oh." Jim rubbed his tired eyes. "I guess I should get out now, then." He stood up and picked up his bag. "Sorry."

Dwight waited until Jim had gotten his coat on, and then the two of them headed outside. "Goodnight, Dwight." said Jim, as they walked across the dark parking lot.

"Goodbye, Jim." came Dwight's stiff reply. But before either of them could walk to their respective cars, they noticed something. A man, dressed in all black, standing at the exit to the lot. The salesmen stopped in their tracks. "Stay back." Dwight muttered to his coworker. Jim was more than happy to take a few steps back, positioning himself behind Dwight.

"Give me all you've got." ordered the man when he within earshot.

"That's pathetic." called Dwight.

"Careful." Jim warned him. The one thing you didn't want to do was anger someone who could possibly want to hurt you.

The mugger frowned. Slowly, he pulled a knife from his pocket. "Still pathetic, am I?" he challenged, waggling it threateningly in Dwight's face. The moonlight bounced off of it like a mirror.

Dwight's mouth fell open slightly. "Call 911, Jim." he told his coworker carefully, his eyes not leaving the mugger's. Heart pounding, Jim pulled out his phone and hurriedly dialled. As it rung, he glanced up at Dwight and the mugger. Their eyes were locked tightly, and neither of them wanted to move first.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you." warned the mugger slowly.

"I'd like to see you try to stop us." Dwight replied, just as slow and deliberate.

A dark anger surged in the mugger's eyes, and he darted forward suddenly, his knife poised at Dwight's abdomen. But the salesman grabbed the mugger's arm, forcing the knife away from his own body, and across the other man's forehead, earning him a small gash just above his left eyebrow. The mugger growled in pain and anger, and he started forward again- but not for Dwight this time. This time, he was headed for Jim.

Jim yelled in surprise, but it was too late to jump backward. His phone slipped out of his fingers and clattered uselessly against the pavement, his green eyes wide and full of fear.

But before the knife could connect with his body, Dwight rushed over, jumping in front of his fellow salesman. Jim heard the knife meet Dwight's skin, and heard Dwight gasp loudly.

The mugger stepped back, obviously satisfied with himself. Jim could see that his knife, which had once been pristine, was now stained red, dripping crimson all over the pavement.

Blood, his brain screamed at him. Dwight's blood.

Dwight sank to the ground, and Jim knelt down next to him. Dwight's face was contorted with pain, his front teeth digging into his bottom lip so hard that his lip was turning white with pressure. There was a dark red stain spreading across his mustard-coloured shirt.

"No." whispered Jim. "Dwight…"

Just then, he heard a quiet, muffled voice. "Hello?" Jim looked over- it was coming from his phone. He picked it up.

"Hello?" he said. His voice was shaking like dead leaves in the wind, and he wished he didn't sound like a child, about to cry.

"Sir. Please state your emergency."

"I… my friend and I, we were mugged… My friend got stabbed, and he… he's bleeding, and…" Jim's voice choked up. He ran his free hand through his hair, squeezing his eyes shut tightly to stop himself from crying.

"Where are you?"

"Right outside of the Scranton Business Park. I… we're in the parking lot. 1725 Slough Avenue."

"Alright. We'll be right there, sir."

"Hurry." Jim hung up the phone, and stuck it in his pocket, looking down at Dwight. "Hey, buddy."

"Jim." Dwight breathed. "P… Put pressure on the wound. Stop the b… blood flow."

"Okay." Jim had to force the grim giggle of hysteria that rose in his throat down. Of course Dwight would know just what to do. He moved his shaking hands toward the ever-growing red stain on Dwight's abdomen, and pressed down gently. Immediately, Dwight whimpered in pain, like a cornered animal. Jim pulled his hands away. "Oh my God. I'm sorry. I'm sorry."

"No." Dwight hissed through gritted teeth. "D… Don't stop. You h… have to… apply pressure."

"But I'm hurting you." Jim protested. Tears were beginning to roll down his cheeks, and he wished for them to stop. Dwight would laugh at such a display of weakness.

"Just do it."

Jim took a deep breath, and pressed down again. Dwight cried out in pain, but Jim didn't relent. After a few moments, Dwight's face relaxed, adapting to the pain.

"Is the… the mugger still here?" asked Dwight. Jim looked up to find that the attacker had fled. Helpless anger bubbled up inside of him.

"No, he left." Jim bit his lip hard, trying to control the surging wave of ragged emotion that was rising inside of him.

"Why would you do that?" Jim blurted out suddenly, as tears fell freely down his face. "Why would you jump in front of me, Dwight?" His coworker's words from earlier came back to him. 'I don't care if you're okay'. If that was true, then why would Dwight have sacrificed himself?

"Because…" Dwight began with great effort. "You have… have a family to go back to, Jim. P… Pam, and… your kids. I don't… have any of those things. Angela's son isn't… isn't mine."

"Oh, God." whispered Jim, his voice full of emotion. "You… You did this for me. For Pam? For our family."

Dwight nodded, and a fresh wave of tears flowed down Jim's face. "Thank you." the salesman sobbed, wiping his eyes with the side of his hand. Blood smeared across his face, but he hardly noticed. He just held Dwight close.

Soon after that, Jim heard sirens, and looked up to see that the ambulance was arriving. "Hang on, buddy." he promised Dwight, trying to smile. "We'll be at the hospital soon enough." Dwight nodded. His face was deathly pale.

As the ambulance pulled up beside them, a few paramedics came out and put Dwight onto a stretcher. "Are you coming, sir?" asked one of them.

"Yes… of course." Jim said, hurrying after them as they brought his injured coworker into the back of the ambulance. A kindly, older paramedic handed him a cloth to wipe his hands on. Jim thanked her quickly, and dried his hands. Both the cloth, and his own, filthy fingers, were stained scarlet.

Jim pulled out his cell phone, and quickly dialled his home number. Pam picked up. "Jim, where are you?"

"I'm in an ambulance."

"Oh my God. Are you okay? Jim, are you hurt?"  
"I'm fine." he reassured her. "Don't worry about me. It's… it's Dwight."

"What happened?" Pam asked worriedly.

"Dwight and I were mugged. They had a knife, and they were gonna stab me, but Dwight got in the way." Jim informed her. "He saved my life, Pam."  
"Wow." she mused. "I'll get my mother to take the kids- I'm coming down right now."

"Okay. Bye, Pam." Jim hung up his phone and stuck it back into his pocket. His breath was coming in erratic bursts, and he tried to calm himself, knowing that Dwight was in the hands of professionals now. They were going to help him. Everything was going to be okay.


	2. Life-Saver

"Jim?"

Jim looked up at the familiar voice, removing his face from its cradle in his hands. Pam was running toward him, her brown eyes wide. Immediately she threw her arms around him. "I'm so glad you're okay." she whispered tremulously.

"Thanks." Jim breathed.

She pulled back, and sat down next to him. "How's Dwight?" she asked anxiously.

"I don't know yet." Jim stared down into his lap, where his hands lay curled like a dormant animal. "I've been sitting out here for, like, twenty minutes. For all I know he could be dead, Pam. Dead."

"Oh, Jim." Pam frowned, her dark eyes misty. "I'm sure he's fine. Remember who we're talking about."

"I suppose you're right." Jim gave a half-hearted, nervous laugh. "He's survived bear attacks and stuff."

"Hey, that's right." She smiled, soothingly rubbing his forearm. "Don't worry, Jim."

"He just looked so… so pale." Jim gulped, trying to force the image of his coworker's ashen face out of his mind. "And all the blood, Pam. I mean… it was… it was everywhere."

Pam nodded, shutting her eyes tightly. "I know. I know."

Just then, a nurse walked out into the waiting room. "Mr Halpert?" she called, looking around.

Jim stood up quickly. "That's me. How's Dwight?"

The nurse smiled kindly at him, obviously seeing the distress on his face. "You can see him now."

Jim turned back to Pam. "Are you coming?" he asked.

"Of course." She reached out and took his hand. "I'm right with you, Jim."  
They followed the nurse down the hallway. She opened one of the doors to let them in. "I'll be out here if you need me." she told them.

"Thank you." said Jim. He held the door for Pam, and then went in himself. His heart was pounding in his ears, and part of him didn't want to see what was inside…

"Dwight." Pam's voice.

"Pam?" Dwight's voice.

Dwight.

Jim looked in. There, sitting up in the bed, was Dwight. He was squinting at her- his glasses were off. Pam picked them up off of the bedside table and brought them over to him. She hugged him. "Jim told me what happened. I'm so glad you're alright."

"Don't worry about me." Dwight reassured her loftily, as he put on his glasses. "I'm a Schrute, after all. I've survived much worse."

"Oh, I don't doubt it." Pam laughed softly. "And… thank you for shielding Jim. We're forever in your debt, Dwight." She leaned over and planted a quick kiss on his forehead.

Dwight smiled as Pam stepped back. Then, he glanced over- and his eyes locked onto Jim. "Jim." he said.

"Dwight." Jim breathed. He moved quickly toward his coworker and wrapped his arms tightly around him.

"Careful." Pam warned him, but Jim didn't move. Dwight was here, he was real, material, alive.

"Get off me, Jim." hissed the salesman. "I'm fine."

Now that was the Dwight that Jim knew and loved… to hate. "You looked awful before." he admitted. "I thought you died."

"Fact: I will never die." Dwight said. "I-"

But Jim wasn't finished yet. "You're amazing, Dwight. Amazing. I don't know anyone else who would sacrifice themselves for me… for my family. If you hadn't… and I'd died… my family would be a wreck. Pam wouldn't be able to take care of Cece and Philip all by herself, not if she was struggling with depression after I died. You're a life-saver- literally. And I know that someday, you'll have a family, too, because you're amazing."

Dwight just stared at him, blue eyes wide. "You think so?" he asked finally.

Jim nodded. "Yeah, I do. I know so."

A smile broke out on Dwight's face. "Thank you." he said gratefully. It was uncharacteristic for Dwight to show any kindness toward Jim- let alone gratitude- so his words put a smile on Jim's face.

"No." He shook his head, beaming. "Thank you."

end


End file.
